


Contestant Five (The Partial Credit Remix)

by sabinelagrande



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Remix, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23151898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Humiliate Alex.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	Contestant Five (The Partial Credit Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Your Time Starts Now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458375) by [libraralien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraralien/pseuds/libraralien). 



> This is an alternate ending for the excellent Your Time Starts Now, so go read the original and come back. I promise it's worth it.

_"Humiliate Alex. You may not leave the Taskmaster house. You have twenty minutes to prepare and ten minutes to execute your humiliation. The humiliation that most pleases the Taskmaster wins. Your time starts now."_

**Contestant Five**

_"I need a towel," Contestant Five says, after only thirty seconds of deliberation, "and a chair."_

_"What sort of chair?" Alex says, despite his immediate misgivings. She's been a wildcard all season, and that was far too quick._

_"Whatever you feel most comfortable in," she says._

_Alex has one of the crew bring an armchair in, and she directs them to put it right next to the door to the library. "What's the towel for?" he asks, in his mild way._

_"To protect the couch," she says, and Alex gives a side-eye to the camera when she looks away. "I'm ready to start, but the crew's not allowed to come in with me."_

_"Are you sure?" Alex asks. "You have another fifteen minutes to prepare."_

_"Yep," she says. "Sit down and start the clock."_

_Alex, as ever, does what he's told, holding the clock in his lap so the camera can see it. She opens the door to the library, steps inside, and closes the door behind her; he hears the lock turn and her retreating footsteps, but that's it for a while._

_Alex just sort of looks at the crew and shrugs. He's not sure how this is humiliating at all. He wouldn't be humiliated if a contestant stopped playing; he'd be deeply annoyed while trying to pretend to be understanding._

_This goes on for a minute, a minute thirty, a minute forty-five, and then the noises start._

_Alex can barely hear it at first, muffled by the door. It just sounds like loud breathing, which doesn't spark any kind of recognition; not until he hears the first moan. He frowns, because that cannot possibly be what he just heard. While he's still thinking about it, he hears it again, and no, that is definitely what is happening, she just went in there and-_

_Alex doesn't want to think about it and also he can't stop thinking about it. She's in there, sitting on his couch- part of the _set_ , one they need for _continuity_ \- touching herself. This is going to make such good television, and Alex is embarrassed for thinking that, and he's embarrassed that he's listening, straining to hear, even. If he can hear it the cameras are picking it up too, and Alex knows they're pointing at him, clocking his reactions to what's going on. He's getting hard and he really hopes the clock is covering it; he shouldn't be doing this but it's being thrown in his face._

_She's an utter sadist and a bloody genius. Greg's going to have a field day._

_He wishes he felt like she was faking, but it doesn't sound that way. It sounds entirely genuine, and the noises get louder, then louder still._

_"You have two minutes," Alex forces himself to say._

_"Thank you, Alex," she moans, then she cries out, loud and shaky, and then goes quiet._

_Alex doesn't move a single muscle. He just sits there like he's frozen to the spot, like he's been pinned through the chest. Everyone's going to see this, and they're going to know what happened, and he's the one who did this to himself, put himself in a situation where someone could do this to him._

_The door opens, and she saunters through; she looks the same, except that her shirt has been misbuttoned and she has the towel over her shoulder. She looks at Alex with a wicked grin, and Alex feels so small it's breathtaking._

_"You've turned purple," she says, and she pats him on the shoulder and walks away. With perfect comic timing, the alarm sounds._

_If they let them air it, it will be one of the finest moments on the show. Alex may not be there to see it, because he wants more than anything to be swallowed up by the ground as quickly as humanly possible._

\---

"Oh," Greg says. "Oh, that's very good."

Alex doesn't say anything, just swallows hard. He didn't like watching it back, because he hadn't actually seen his own reaction yet. That's all anyone will see; there are stationary cameras in the library, but Production had cut them off immediately when it became apparent what was happening. All anybody is going to watch is Alex being quietly mortified.

At least you really couldn't see his erection.

"You really did turn purple," Greg says. "God, I could look at your face like that for ages. You looked like you wanted to die."

"I sort of did," Alex says.

"You loved it," Greg says.

Alex doesn't respond. As it is with all of this, he loves how it made him feel and hates that he had to go through it. That's how this works.

They're in the library now; Alex knew Greg would march him straight there after he saw the footage, so why bother. Greg walks over and seats himself on the couch, right in the center, resting an arm along the back of it. He beckons Alex over with one finger, pointing to the ground when Alex approaches, and Alex kneels between his legs.

"I ought to not let you watch," Greg says, as he unzips his trousers. "That's how it was, wasn't it? You sitting there like a greedy little boy, trying to hard to hear every single sigh?"

"Yes, Taskmaster," Alex says.

Greg's cock hardens quickly in his grip, and Alex has to bite his lip to remind himself not to lean forward and take it into his mouth, not before Greg tells him to. But he doesn't; he just strokes himself, and Alex can't do anything but watch.

"You didn't deserve to listen," Greg says. "You don't deserve to watch. It's just that I can't see the look on your face if you have your eyes shut." He moves his hand faster, and Alex knows this isn't going to take long; the video really wound him up, not that it didn't Alex, as much as it made Alex want to crawl out of his skin. "That's what everyone's going to be watching, you know. Everyone's going to be staring at your face, thinking about what a filthy pervert you are." He laughs. "A dirty old man, if you were any kind of a man."

Alex puts his hands on his thighs, balling them into fists. He's so hard it hurts, and Greg's not going to give him relief from that. That's not how this went; he got denied, in front of everyone, even though he wants to protest that he never asked for it in the first place.

Alex feels so utterly helpless, so reduced, but something in a deep, shivering part of him loves it. He loves all of this, loves everything the Taskmaster makes him do, everything he lets the contestants do to him. It's so wrong, this thing he's made for himself and shown to the world, but he couldn't stop if he tried.

He shuts his eyes without noticing, not even focused on his body anymore.

"No, no, I want you to look at me," Greg says, the moment he does. He opens them immediately, training his gaze on Greg, watching the movements of his hand, the look of cool superiority on his face. Alex knows Greg is in this just as deep, as inextricably as Alex, and neither of them could give it up if they tried.

He opens his mouth as Greg comes on his skin, hoping he looks as grateful as he feels.


End file.
